


A Vampire's Kiss

by Selly87



Series: Punishments & Pleasure [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Biting, Bondage, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Chains, Cock Slut Draco Malfoy, Collars, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Dom Harry Potter, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dominance, Draco Malfoy is a Brat, Draco Malfoy is a Tease, Exhibitionism, Love Bites, M/M, Married Life, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Nipple Play, Outdoor Sex, POV First Person, POV Harry Potter, Painplay, Possessive Harry Potter, Restraints, Roleplay, Rough Sex, S&M, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub Draco Malfoy, Submission, Top Harry Potter, Vampire Draco Malfoy, Wax Play, Whipping, pain slut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 05:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18219026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selly87/pseuds/Selly87
Summary: When you're bold enough to tease Harry Potter in public, you've got to be ready to accept the repercussions of your misdeeds. All of them.





	A Vampire's Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have this friend who is immensely supportive of my writing. Let's name said friend Lobster, just for the fun of it. Until very recently I'd never read a manga in my life but after reading _Blood Bank_ I've been turned, the smut was so freaking good, how could I not love it? My warped and twisted imagination decided that the basic concept (D/s, BDSM, vampires) would make for a marvellous addition to my **Punishment & Pleasure** series and some 9K+ later, here we are.

* * *

_Merlin’s Balls_ , I literally have absolutely no idea why I let him talk me into this.

_Except I do. I always do. Even when I deny that I do._

Unbelievably to some, especially me, there are times when his puppy dog eyes melt my every resolve and not even the part of me that is fiercely dominant can resist those pleading grey orbs and pouty lips. That lost puppy dog look of his ought to require a license.

I might be able to make him surrender to me and beg for mercy while I hit and whip and fuck him and give him all the things he needs, the things we need, but at the end of the day, I’m only human.

I’m also madly in love with the man.

So, really, the fact that I can bring him to his knees and make him ask me to fulfil his most sordid fantasies while I control and twist his mind until I’ve pushed him far beyond his boundaries and into a completely different headspace is entirely irrelevant.

He holds all the cards.

He’s the director of the show and I’m just a willing participant.

But for the love of Godric Gryffindor, I do _loathe_ Ministry functions with a passion. I always have and I always will. I’m just very good at pretending. Turns out, as you get older, you learn a thing or two. Dating Draco Malfoy may have helped with that.

As it stands, I already give those vultures more than enough of my precious personal time and the idea of sacrificing even more of it to attend an inane charity event thoroughly distresses me. Yes, it’s charity and yes, I should feel good about contributing to society and giving back to the community but I just don’t want to be here. Call me selfish, I don’t care, I’ll take it as a compliment.

I should have known better. The thought makes me snort. It’s the same old story every year.

I shouldn’t even have mentioned tonight’s Gala to him because when you’re married to one Draco Malfoy you _do not_ tell your husband that the Minister of Magic himself has requested the presence of yours truly at the Ministry’s Annual overly extravagant Masquerade Ball. Seriously, they cut my Auror training funds and I’m forced to grovel at Kingsley’s feet for weeks on end, and then they splurge on this kind of nonsense.

Will they ever learn? Not in my lifetime.

Then again, the repercussions of denying Draco the knowledge of this event would have been far worse. I tried it once. Never ever again will I be so stupid. I learnt my lesson the hard way. Granted, I learnt from my mistakes faster than he ever will but his stubborn refusal to be unlikely to do something stupid or wrong again makes for extraordinarily fun playtimes.

Still, my beloved husband can hold a grudge like nobody’s business and I am getting too old to bow and scrape for his forgiveness for days.

I’d much rather listen to him beg me for permission to have an orgasm. He does it so well. Especially when he’s wound tight.

All that needy and whiny pleading, the sheer desperation, the want, the lust… Just thinking about it makes me feel all hot and bothered.

Having said that, at this stage, I’m thoroughly fed up with the fact that he’s decided to spend the evening mercilessly teasing me about my lack of costume.

Isn’t it enough that I’m here, with him?

I’m doing this for _his_ benefit, so _he_ can have fun. Oh, the joys of the unwritten rules of marriage.

Yet, he’s been at it since before we even left the house and we’ve been at the Gala for well over two hours.

My patience is running thin and I am convinced he’s doing it all on purpose.

He usually does. He’s got a natural talent for it. One I both loathe and love.

He’s absolutely trying to goad me into an explosive response, preferably one that will result in me Apparating us straight to the cottage to tie him up in our playroom and give him a good lashing. He certainly deserves one.

_Naughty pet._

My obvious my lack of enthusiasm for his provocations is just spurring him on but honestly, what’s wrong with a fashionable tailormade tuxedo, brand-new wizarding flashy robes and a stylish lion mask to conceal the upper half of my face and the prominent scar on my forehead?

I admit, I’ve not tried especially hard, but then again, when it’s a costume party, I never do.

This is what you get when you give Draco Malfoy an inch. He will, without hesitation, take a mile.

 _The spoilt brat_ that he is, yet I wouldn’t want him any other way.

Also, it helps that he looks rather dashing in his costume.

Lately, he’s obsessed with Muggle books, movies, and TV-shows about vampires and this Ball has given him the perfect excuse to design a stunning vampire costume. He’s truly gone all out. I’ve no doubt that he’s determined to outshine every single person in attendance and for the love of Circe, with his stunning looks he doesn’t even have to try!

Then again, I’m probably the wrong person to ask. I’m utterly biased when it comes to this man. One day, he will be the death of me.

Instead of tight black trousers, a white silken button-up shirt and a fitted black waistcoat topped off with long black and dark green wizarding robes, he’s gone all out and turned himself the sexiest vampire I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he really is a vampire.

Despite his incessant teasing, I really can’t take my eyes off him. He’s downed a potion to temporarily grow his hair long and the way those fine blond locks loosely cascade down his shoulders just makes me want to twist my fingers into them and pull hard. I always thought the long hair would make him look like his father but that is most definitely not the case.

I want to drag him by his hair until he winces and pleads for me to stop and then I want to tug some more, just until he looks at me with watery eyes while he hovers on the edge between blissful pleasure and exquisite pain.

Those tight black leather leggings leave absolutely nothing to the imagination and the fact that I know he’s not wearing any underwear underneath them makes looking at him even more unbearable. He deserves a punishment for that transgression alone. I want to tear those leggings off him.

I want him naked.

How he manages to walk with those obscenely high heels, he just had to have, is a complete mystery to me. The gothic-style dark green corset-like waistcoat he’s wearing above a black button-up shirt is literally making me drool. He’s got a stunning figure but tonight’s outfit accentuates _every single curve_ and it’s bringing out my possessive side. Not that I manage to control that side of me very well where Draco Malfoy is concerned.

I positively detest it when people touch my man and my wand hand has been twitching with the desire to hex just about every single person in attendance.

They all know that he’s _my_ husband.

They know we’re married and have been for years, yet they can’t stop themselves.

They seemingly can’t control themselves.

The urge to touch him and his outfit, to admire his charmed incisors and his long black billowing robe is too great.

I truly am at the end of my tether and—

“Harry, dearest, I’m ever so thrilled that you came tonight. And you brought that handsome man of yours too. What’s his name again?”

Lady Weatherly has finally managed to accost me and seems to take great pleasure in insulting me and my marriage, whether she consciously knows it or not. I’ve been avoiding her like the plague but what with all my attention focused on Draco, I temporarily forgot to look out for her and duck away in time.

_Ugh._

The woman positively gives me the creeps. Still, I’ve learnt from the best. When you’re married to a Malfoy you learn how to keep a nonchalant face, even if it kills you on the inside.

“Draco. Draco Malfoy.”

“Ah, yes. He looks positively delightful in his vampire costume. Between you and me, Harry, I wouldn’t mind if he sank those fangs into me some time.”

She giggles and I clench my fist and remind myself that my position in the Ministry does not allow me to hex annoying rich Pureblood ~~bitches~~ _witches_. But Merlin, do I want to wipe that smile off her face. A well-placed stinging hex, directly to her posterior should do the trick. Who does she think she is talking about my husband like that? In front of me, no less!

She continues to talk and I politely pretend to listen. Draco joins me and I smile sweetly, sneak my arm around his waist, and grasp his hip firmly. Lady Weatherly gives him a positively lecherous look and my jealousy threatens to spin out of control. _Crucio_ is rapidly becoming a truly marvellous idea.

“Harry, dear, with your endorsement donations for the new St Mungo’s ward are through the roof. Exciting times, exciting times.”

“Lady Weatherly, I assure you, the pleasure is all mine.”

I force the words out and make every effort to remain polite. Kingsley would have my arse if he knew I’d managed to piss off one of Britain’s richest wizarding families.

I squeeze Draco’s hip even harder and he barely manages to suppress a yelp and turns his head to glare at me but I pay no heed to his discomfort. He is the reason I’m suffering through this event in the first place and it’s his merciless teasing that has me on edge.

He bloody well can take a bit of pain while I’m forced to listen to Lady Weatherly singing my praises. If she thinks her sweet nothings will make up for continuously giving me obnoxious pet names and not even remembering my husband’s name, then she’s got another thing coming.

The next five minutes are excruciating and I’m determined to bruise Draco’s hip while I nonchalantly sip on my champagne and nod every now and then to make Lady Weatherly believe that I’m hanging on to her every word.

It’s not that I hate the woman per se, she’s a smart cookie and she’s done a great deal of good since the end of the war and her return from America, but she’s clearly had a bit too much to drink and even her husband’s attempts to drag her away are proving to be fruitless.

Lady Weatherly and her husband have dressed as Caesar and Cleopatra and we inevitably get to the stage where she points out my lack of effort to disguise myself better. She does it every year and every year I promise her to make more of an effort. It’s become a sort of tedious game between us.

This year, Lady Weatherly surprises me. She doesn’t ask me why I haven’t picked a more impressive costume. Instead, she addresses Draco.

“Mr Malfoy, the two of you have been married long enough, haven’t you? You should really put your foot down a little more and demand that Harry dress up properly. He needs a firm hand.”

She laughs at her silly joke and claps her hands.

I growl lowly and Draco briefly glances at me. The sassy glint in his eyes worries me and I squeeze his hip so hard that he squirms and moves to stand closer to me. Somehow, he manages to make it look like he’s sidling up to me on purpose. Only Draco Malfoy could move so graciously while I’m trying my hardest to leave a vicious black and blue bruise on his hip.

_I’m warning you, pet, do not do it._

“You know, Lady Weatherly, I’d absolutely love to but I’m afraid in that regard Harry is a rather stubborn one. I’d have to force him to his knees and threaten to sink my vampire fangs into his neck before he’d even agree to listen to me, let alone allow me to choose his costume or his clothes.”

Lady Weatherly has the audacity to laugh and encourage Draco.

“Maybe you should, Mr Malfoy, maybe you should. Married life mustn’t become a chore, it’s important to keep things fresh. When you’ve been married for as long as I have, you’ll realise that.”

She loops her arm around her husband’s broad waist and he smiles apologetically but says nothing. He isn’t the type of man to stand up to his wife, that much is clear to me.

Oh, how I wish Draco was more like him. He’s refined and well-mannered but he’s just not able to keep that bratty mouth of his under control. Not that I would want him any other way, but still.

Me on my knees in front of him?

The idea is downright laughable and ordinarily, I would simply sneak my arms around his waist, pull him flush against my body and press my lips to his ear to whisper sweet filthy goodness to him.

_Are you sure, pet? Do you have what it takes to make me kneel for you? I think you’d prefer it if I sank my teeth into you and marked you all over, turned every inch of you black and blue. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, pet? You like it when I mark you mine and when the bruises linger for days. When you have those lasting physical reminders of what I can do to you._

Usually just hearing my Dom voice is enough to make him crumple. Sometimes it takes a little bit longer and I need to issue a couple of threats but eventually, he always caves.

For all his bravado, he just doesn’t know how to resist me when I dominate him.

Well, to be honest, that’s not quite true, he does know how to resist but he frequently chooses not to.

It’s his gift to me and it’s my most prized possession.

The knowledge that I can make him fall apart at the seams means everything to me.

There’s nothing more precious than his trust in my ability to break him and then put him back together.

Lady Weatherly finally excuses herself and I turn to stand in front of him. I’ve stopped bruising his hip. Instead, I have wrapped my hand around his wrist. I hold on tightly, possessively.

I could let his little comment slide.

I could continue to go on pretending that all his little taunts don’t bother me. But we’ve wasted far too much time at this ridiculous ball. If Draco tells one more person that I enjoy allowing him to bite me and that my deepest darkest fantasy is to turn into a bloodsucking monster, I will transfigure my own incisors and sink them into his neck to teach him a lesson he won’t forget any time soon.

“You’re a mouthy little brat tonight.”

His eyes twinkle with amusement and he gives me a flippant response.

“I absolutely am. What to do something about it?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, Harry, yeah, you know I would.”

I quirk an eyebrow at him. At least he’s honest.

“Are you sure you’ll like the reward I’ve got in mind?”

“Hit me with it.”

His choice of words makes me draw him closer and I sneak my arm around his waist and pull him against me. He comes willingly. He always does.

“Oh, I’m going to hit you, of that, you can be sure.”

He whimpers and his eyes darken. I wonder what he’s thinking of. There are so many ways in which I could make him hurt. It’s a bottomless pit of choices and I can tell that he’s racking his brain for whatever I have in mind. He’ll never work it out.

“I’ll do it until you beg me to stop and then I’ll do it some more. I’ll do it until you’re so far gone that you’ll be the one begging me to bite you.”

“ _Ngh_. Yes, please. Do it.”

_Pain slut. You’re just gagging for it now, aren’t you, my love?_

He’s panting and I can feel his growing arousal pressing against me.

_Control yourself, I’ve no intention to push you over the edge any time soon._

“I’m going to hurt you so good tonight, pet,” I whisper into his ear and I can feel his knees buckle as he struggles not to drop to his knees.

Sometimes it takes virtually no effort at all to get him to surrender.

Then again, it’s been a while since we last played with pain and I can sense his desperation. I tighten my hold on him and stop him from falling.

_Not just yet, pet._

We don’t need those kinds of photos splashed all over the front page of the Prophet. It would take way too much effort to come up with a believable but innocent reason and I can think of more interesting things I’d rather spend my time doing.

“Please, Harry.”

“Patience.”

He looks at me as though I’ve asked him to count to a million and I bring my hand up to stroke his cheek and then lean in to kiss him softly. As I do, I hope that some reporter snaps a photo of us. This one they can print. I fail to understand how kissing my husband is front page news but it seems that seven years into it, the novelty hasn’t worn off it. It probably never will. Oh, well.

He responds to my kiss by moulding himself against me and parting his lips to invite me in. I let my tongue slither into his mouth and tease every corner. His charmed incisors are razor-sharp but he keeps perfectly still and moans into the kiss when I tease them. The nerve endings must be sensitive from the lingering effect of the magic he used.

I gently pull away and he chases my lips and whines when I don’t give in.

“Be good now.”

I press my hand to his rapidly rising and falling chest.

“Yes, Harry.”

His whispered promise sends a shudder through me and I wordlessly drag him across the large ballroom and towards the doors. He follows me beautifully, barely half a step behind, and not even his killer heels can stop him from doing so. He does it to respect the power dynamics between us but it’s only discernible if you know what kind of relationship we have.

To everyone around us we simply look like two people dying to get away from a boring Ministry function.

Why we’re in such a hurry to leave, well, that’s nobody’s business.

I, for one, am a man on a mission and rudely ignore anyone who tries to stop us.

I’ve given them enough of my time.

Now it’s his turn.

He deserves my undivided attention and I’m not about to let anyone or anything stop that from happening.

Even Kingsley Shacklebolt doesn’t manage to delay my departure. I simply wave him off with a half-hearted excuse that makes Draco chuckle.

Once outside the ballroom, I stop to take off my mask and turn my head to look at him. My smile is positively devious and he holds my gaze for a moment, then lowers his head and looks at the ground. He’s more than ready to play and his silent eagerness excites me even more.

I pull him towards the lifts and we leave the Ministry through one of the Apparition Points in the Atrium. I take the lead and we make the jump straight to the cottage. We land on the gravelled path outside the front door, easily sliding through the intricate web of wards that protect our little haven. The cottage door opens, I pull him inside, kick the door shut and slam him against it.

He doesn’t resist, not even a little.

I grab his wrists, move them above his head and press them into the cool wood. I hold them there with one hand and run the other through his magically extended hair.

I tug and he tilts his head back, exposing his throat to me. I trail kisses all over it and each time my lips connect with his pale skin, he whimpers. I savour the sound and kiss along the line of his jaw, then devour his mouth.

“Mine,” I growl against his lips and bite.

He groans but doesn’t fight me. I know he’s not going to. Not tonight.

Tonight, fighting me is not what he wants.

“You’ve been a terrible little tease, pet. You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

My hand leaves his hair and I close my fingers around his throat but don’t squeeze. I don’t need to. Letting my hand rest above his throat is enough to further establish the power dynamics between us.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Such a bad boy.”

I kiss him again; hard and unforgiving.

He lets me, he always does.

_Such beauty._

I pull away and summon a broad leather collar. It’s heavier than his normal collar and it’ll keep holding his head up a chore. Let’s see how long he can fight gravity. I let go of his wrists and he doesn’t move them. Instead, he looks at me while I fasten the collar around his neck. He whimpers at the added weight and I place my hands on his shoulders and unceremoniously push him onto his knees.

He falls, just like he should and I conjure a thin metal chain. It looks fragile but it’s magically enhanced. This innocent string of metal loops could restrain a dragon’s powerful wings. He’d break his bones trying to free himself. The chain is light and inconspicuous and I bend down to attach it to his collar, then give it a tug.

He lets himself fall forward and as I walk towards our playroom, he obediently crawls after me. I walk backwards and admire the way his arse sways from side to side as he follows me with his head submissively lowered, giving in to the pull of the heavy collar around his neck.

I stop in the centre of our playroom and he crawls up to me and settles at my feet. He remains on all fours and I let go of the chain leash. I’m not wearing the most comfortable clothes, at least not for what I have in mind. I’m going to have to rectify that first.

I leave and it doesn’t take me long to change into a more comfortable outfit, a loose pair of black slacks and a t-shirt. I remain barefoot and when I return to the playroom, he hasn’t moved at all and I linger in the doorway and watch him. I can tell that he knows I’m looking at him. His breathing grows slightly laboured. This is driving him wild. Just knowing that I’m there, staring, planning. He whimpers and I decide to put him out of his misery.

I walk up to him, grab him by his hair and pull him back onto his haunches, then gently comb my fingers through those long light tresses. They’re shiny and bright and silken and I loosely braid them, then use a spell to hold the end together.

“Beautiful,” I whisper into his hair, undo the clasp that holds his wizarding robes together and pull them off his lithe form. I haphazardly discard them and step around to undo that tight corset-like waistcoat. I take my time with it, undoing one button after the other while he’s kneeling in front of me, head lowered, breathing heavily.

He’s perfectly still, doesn’t move and doesn’t speak.

Finally, the garment comes off and I discard that one too. I’m not nearly as caring with his button-up shirt. This one I rip off him and he gasps.

“Take it off.”

He scrambles to follow my order and divests himself of the torn shirt. I don’t allow him to fold it, but instead, snatch it from him and toss it aside. His tight leggings I simply vanish with a lazy flick of my wrist and a wandless spell. The rush of magic makes him shiver and he’s gloriously naked.

I grab his throat again and force him to recline. He whimpers and tries to move his legs but doesn’t manage to free them. The position is awkward and uncomfortable and I use my free hand to force his thighs apart.

“Where’s that bratty mouth of yours now?” I ask as I hover over him, one hand around his throat and the other on the floor for support.

He doesn’t answer and I smile.

“Are you comfortable, pet?”

“No, Harry.”

“Good.”

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you?”  
  
“No, Harry.”

“Are you scared, pet?”

He hesitates, momentarily worries his bottom lip, then shakes his head.  
  
“You should be, you’re at my mercy and if you don’t behave and do as you’re told I’ll leave you tied to a pole outside to burn under the rising sun,” I smirk and force him to open his mouth. 

I push my thumb inside and caress those charmed incisors and he moans and tries to arch his back but the position is too uncomfortable for him to gain any sort of traction.

“Little bloodsucker, you don’t terrify me. Those fangs don’t terrify me. Tonight, I’m going to show you real pain, the kind you’ve never ever experienced before. You’ll beg me to stop long before I’ve finished reducing you into a quivering wreck.”

He whimpers and blinks, then stares at me with wide eyes. I continue to caress those fangs and he whines and moans. His body starts to shake and I can’t help but wonder exactly how sensitive his charmed teeth are and how long that spell is going to last.

Mind you, those fangs aren’t especially large but they are dangerously sharp. He could easily pierce my skin if he tried to bite me but I know he won’t attempt to try anything.

In all the time we’ve done this, he only ever bit me once and I think he still regrets it. By the time I was through with him, he couldn’t sit comfortably for nearly a week. I made him sit anyway and thoroughly enjoyed his agony. I don’t think he’s forgotten that lesson. In fact, it’s one of the few lessons I’ve taught him that left an impression on him and I’m rather proud of myself.

I withdraw my thumb from his mouth and look down at him.

“It should be the other way around, shouldn’t it? Me, the feeble little human, on my knees, at your mercy, begging for the honour to feel those fangs sink into my neck as you suck my blood and drink your fill.”

He whimpers.

“Tell me, pet, is that what you want? Do you want me to surrender to you and beg you to bite me? Is that your fantasy?”

“No, Harry.”

“What do you want?”

“I want— I need— I need for you to be in control, Harry.”

“I’m _always_ in control, pet. Never ever forget that.”

The whine that erupts from his throat is delectable and I kiss him hard.

“Say it,” I order him.

“You’re in control, Harry.”

“And you like it that way, don’t you?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“You love to surrender to me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Harry.”

He looks dazed and I think I’ve pushed him far enough. I think it’s time to play properly.

“Surrendering to a human, whatever would your fellow vampires say, my little bloodsucker? They’d exile you, pet. They’d turn on you.”

“I— I don’t— I don’t care.”

He breathes heavily.

“Oh, but I think you do care, pet.” 

“I don’t.”

I chuckle.

“Deny it all you want.”

I let my hand trail over his body and tease every inch of skin that I can comfortably reach. He makes delightful little noises and I smile down at him. His eyelids flutter and when my hand wraps around his cock, his eyes fall closed and he lets out a low moan.

“Look at me.”

My command his firm and my voice low.

His eyes snap open and he stares at me. I tease his cock. He whimpers pathetically. I’ve not even restrained his arms but he hasn’t made a single attempt to move them.

“You’re mine, pet. I’m going to do whatever I want with you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

There’s everything he can do about it, he absolutely has the right to stop this at any moment, but occasionally he enjoys me telling him that he’s completely at my mercy and that there’s no way out.

I continue to tease him for a while, then sit back and help him to move his legs. I reach for the chain, that’s still attached to his collar, and with a snap of my fingers it comes off. A mumbled spell creates four equally long pieces and they fly to his wrists and ankles. The cool metal slithers around his sensitive pale skin and I force him to lie spread-eagled on the floor. Hooks appear in the ground and the chains trap him.

We could move this to the bed but tonight I don’t want him to be comfortable.

He tries to tug on the restraints but they show him no mercy. I chuckle softly and let my hands roam over his body, exploring the familiar territory. I knead and caress the pale unmarred skin until the sweet sound of his incessant low whimpers, tiny whines and drawn-out moans fills the room.  
  
“Such beauty. I’m going to make you mine. I’m going to mark every inch of your body.” 

“Yes, please.”

Not bothering to get up, I summon a black silken blindfold and plunge him into darkness. His breathing becomes laboured and he struggles against the chains that hold him in position. I splay my hand over his chest until he calms.

He relaxes soon enough and I continue to explore his body, touching, squeezing, tickling, teasing. I toy with his nipples, pull, and twist them and rub them until he moans and—

“Please, please, please, please, please.”

I’m not sure if he even knows what he’s asking for and I continue to tease him. He continues to beg and I twist and sharply pull on both nipples, forcing him to arch his back off the floor as his moan turns into the first scream of the night.

He’s breathless, panting, whimpering, and I soothe the abused nubs with tiny licks and soft kisses.

He mewls and I bite each nipple.

He groans and I bite harder, then let my lips ghost over his chest to seek out the perfect place for his first mark. I settle on his shoulder and without warning, I sink my teeth into his skin. He tastes salty and uniquely like the man I’ve loved for longer than I care to remember.

He screams and I bite harder, then suck. He thrashes beneath me but I don’t ease up.

The pain is making him delirious.

“Fuck—” he mumbles breathlessly when I finally let up and earns himself a smack across his thigh.

“ _Ngh_ , ow, sorry, Harry.”

“Scream all you want but I don’t want to hear such filth fall from those pretty lips or I’ll stuff something into your mouth to give you an incentive. Tell me, pet, am I going to have to gag you or was that your one and only transgression.”

“I won’t swear, I promise, Harry.”

“You better mean that, pet. You will absolutely regret it if you break that rule tonight.”

I kiss his cheek and let my hands roam over his body, then sink my teeth into his neck to bite and leave another mark.

He fills the room with the most delightful noises and I pull away to admire the abused skin. It’s going to be deep purple tomorrow and I can’t wait to touch it then.

I tease him some more and leave a few more bite marks. One just below his armpit, one near the inside of his elbow, one above his hip to join the bruise I gave him at the party and a few on the inside of his thighs where the skin is most sensitive.

By the time I’m done, he’s screamed himself half-hoarse and I’m happy with the first set of marks I’ve covered him with. I give him a little bit of time to recover and summon a soft white feather to tease him with.

A little downtime.

He writhes and moans beneath me and begs me to never stop as he tugs on the chains that keep him restrained. His cock his hard and twitches every time I tease him with the feather and I surprise him by giving it a few sucks. He nearly leaps off the floor but my hands are stronger and I force his hips down.

“Harry, please, please, please, so good, please don’t stop, please, please.”

He begs me shamelessly and I continue for a while. He tastes delicious and my fingers find their way to his hole. It flutters and flexes and I tease it mercilessly.

When I press my finger into him, he moans and nearly chokes on a mixture of his saliva and a loud groan. I only slip it in until the first knuckle and let it rest there, letting him feel it and me.

I’ve got no problem with taking him unprepared and fucking him hard but I've got a problem with taking him dry. There are other, better ways to hurt him and I do I rather like to keep his hole intact. No need to make it tear and cause bleeding. He’s too precious for that kind of torture. I, too, have my limits.

I gently finger him for a while and when I feel him approach his orgasm, I stop pleasuring him and pull my mouth off his cock. He whimpers and begs me for more but I ignore him completely.

Instead, I get to my feet and walk over to the nearest chiffonier. I pull the third drawer from the top open and smile at the large selection of wax play candles. There are quite a few colours to choose from and after a little bit of deliberate dithering I choose a bloodred paraffin candle and return to my beloved pet.

I drag the candle across his stomach and the muscles underneath the skin flex in response.

“Do you know what that is, pet?”

“No, Harry.”  
  
“Would you like to guess?” 

“I don’t know, Harry.”

I continue to tease him with the candlestick and he lets out a low, desperate whine.  
  
“It’s red and it will sting you ever so sweetly,” I offer a hint but he merely shakes his head. In all fairness, I could be using the firm handle of several impact toys. 

“Young I am tall, old I am short. I flicker hot and yellow, drip, drip, drip, sting, sting, sting.”

He groans.

“A candle,” he whispers. “You’re going to cover me in wax.”

“Hm, yes, good boy.”

I bend over and reward him with a kiss.

“Not scared of a little bit of heat now, are you, my little vampire?”

“No, Harry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Hm. I’ll take you at your word. You know what to do if it gets too much, don’t you?”

“Yes, Harry.”

I know that he’s scared; fire still terrifies him. The only reason he is telling me that he isn’t scared is because I have him blindfolded and he can’t see the flame. That, and he loves the sting of the hot wax dripping down onto his skin. The sensation is intense and there is something utterly sensual about it and to set the mood I focus my magic on the wireless in the room and turn it on. Sweet, sexy tunes fill our playroom. He moans.

I move into a comfortable position and hold the candle steady, ignite it with a mumbled spell, then wait for a few seconds before I drip a bit of hot wax onto the inside of my wrist. The sting is intense and I want to cuss and curse. I squeeze my eyes shut, force myself to breathe through it and deem both the heat and level of pain tolerable enough for him.

He knows I’ve tested the wax on my own skin, I always do, it’s my golden rule, and lets out a low whimper. I squeeze his hand reassuringly. It always takes a little bit of time before he loses himself in the sensations and during that time, I usually hold his hand.

“Ready?” I ask.

He hesitates for a moment, then nods.

“Yes, Harry.”

I let the candle burn for a little while and watch his chest rise and fall. He grasps my hand tightly and squeezes.

“You’re safe with me, pet,” I give him some verbal reassurance, then gently tip the candle, and drop a bit of wax onto his chest. He hisses, arches his back and I watch as the red wax runs over his pale skin, cools, and hardens.

I remind him to breathe and drop a little more wax onto his chest. I cover his nipples with hot wax and he gasps and a small sob escapes his lips. I leave a trail of wax above his sternum and the more wax drips down onto his skin, the stronger it blushes. The bloodred wax surrounded by dark pink skin surrounded by pale unmarred skin looks stunning and I make it my mission to cover as much of his body in wax as I can.

He relaxes his grip, lets go of my hand, and arches toward the sting each time I drop more wax onto him. His silken blindfold is damp and I know he’s shed a few tears but he will shed a whole lot more before the night is over. He’s gradually losing himself in the sensations of the hot wax and the delightful stinging sensations and the lingering warmth.

I allow him to drift but pull back after a while and check in with him.

“Do you like this, my little vampire?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes, Harry.”  
  
“Do you want more?” 

“Please, Harry.”

“What a good little vampire you are. So utterly obedient. You please me greatly, little bloodsucker.”

He whimpers and his cock twitches excitedly. He loves the praise, thrives upon hearing it, and it makes me smile. I take my time to cover his stomach, thighs, legs and arms with red wax and he moans and whimpers and shamelessly begs for more. He’s half delirious from the pain and tonight I let him have more than I usually would.

“You look so utterly stunning, pet.”

The intense red of the cooling wax makes it look like a hoard of vampires feasted upon him and when I tell him that he lets out a long moan. His cock is still hard and conjuring up some lube, I stroke it teasingly while I drip more wax onto his abdomen and inner thighs. He gasps and moans and pants and I work him right to the edge.

He starts begging me and the incessant string of pleas that falls from his lips make my head spin.

I’m tempted, very tempted.

But before we properly indulge in orgasm play, I need to get rid of the candle. A flickering flame and a writhing, begging Draco Malfoy are two things that just don’t go together. Hurting him with wax is one thing, permanently burning his skin is another and one I won’t do. I extinguish the candle with a spell and put it aside, then bring him to the edge of his orgasm and keep him hanging there as I tease his cock with featherlight strokes. They are just satisfying enough to keep him tethering on the brink but aren’t enough to tip the scales.

“Beg for it, pet.”

“Please, Harry, please, please let me come, please, Harry, please, please, please.”

“Such sweet words. You’re really desperate, aren’t you, my little vampire?”  
  
“Yes, Harry.”  
  
“Tell me, do you deserve to come?” 

The question throws him.

“I— Yes, please, I’ve been so good. Please, Harry, please I’m so close, please.”

I leave him hanging for a while, then bend forward and press my mouth to his ear. I inhale and exhale a few times. The wait is nearly killing him. I can tell. It turns me on so much and I smirk against his ear.

“No.”

He lets out a frustrated howl and yanks at his restraints. A wretched sob escapes his throat and then another and another and another. This part he hates, the control I have over him, then power to built up his hopes, to make him believe he’ll get his release, only to crush it again.

“Please, Harry, please, please, please.”

I press my hand over his mouth and he struggles against the impromptu gag.

“Be still, pet,” I whisper the command into his ear and he struggles for a moment, then goes slack and lies perfectly still.

His chest rises and falls rapidly and I remove my hand from his mouth. His lips part and his tongue darts out to lick his dry lips.

I let a few minutes pass, then, devious as I am, stroke his cock. He arches his back and groans and struggles against what his body needs and wants. He’s trying to hard not to betray me. He doesn’t have my permission to come and I do love watching the determination on his face as he tries to fight his body’s natural response to the intense and intimate stimulation of his cock.

He’s tethering right on the edge and if I leave him there a little longer, he’s going to fall apart completely. A perfectly delicious mixture of sobs and moans escape him as his fights against the need to orgasm and he’s going to lose the battle in just a few seconds, I know him well enough.

In my head, I slowly count back from ten and when I’ve reached three, I press my lips to his ear. On the count of one, I give him the command he was so desperately holding out for.  
  
“Come.” 

He lets out an animalistic groan and climaxes with such intensity that I choke up a little as I watch him come undone. He spurts thick ropes of white come all over my hand, his stomach, and thighs. His orgasm goes on forever and I stroke him through it until his sobs turn into low whimpers. I bring my hand to my mouth and lick some of the come off, then let my lips hover over his.

“You taste so good, little vampire,” I whisper and claim his mouth in an unforgivingly harsh kiss before he can react to my words.

After the kiss, he needs a few minutes to properly come down from his high and I take the opportunity to wash my hands and return the candle to its proper place.

When I return to his side, his breathing has slowed a little and I release him from his bonds. His ankles and wrists are red from his struggles but its nothing a little spell won’t fix. Still, I check that his blood flow is intact, then pull him into my arms and after a while up onto his feet.

I did never take off those killer heels, he decided to wear with his costume, and his feet look stunningly beautiful in them. The heels elongate his already long legs and his arse looks perkier than ever. I cheekily smack it. He lets out a low moan.

“I think we should get you a couple more heels, pet, you look gorgeous. I can already imagine you wearing a pair of heels and a scanty pair of lace panties for me.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

He’s still blindfolded and when I speak, he automatically turns his head into the direction of my voice. I wrap my arms around his lithe waist and hug him close.

“I’ve got a special treat for you, my little vampire. Would you like to play a bit more?”

“Yes, please, Harry.”

“Very well, let’s take this outside then.”

He gasps but has no choice but to follow me out onto the patio and into our back garden. It’s a lovely warm summer night and we’re covered in darkness. Nobody can see us and nobody would ever walk in on us but taking playtime outdoors is still an extraordinary thrill that thoroughly excites the both of us.

A simple spell turns on the garden fairy lights and acutely aware of the fact that he’s shivering a little, I encase us in a bubble of warmth. He’s covered in dried wax and his own come and after his earlier orgasm he doesn’t quite manage to walk as elegantly as before but he still looks utterly perfect in those black shiny heels. If he keeps them on much longer, I absolutely am going to develop a new kink.

I summon the severed chain from earlier and it flies into my hand. I merge the pieces back together with a quick spell and use magic to loop it around a robust tree branch nearby. The two ends hang down and I lead him to the tree before restraining his wrists. I shorten the chain and effectively pull his hands over his head, then make him lose the blindfold.

He blinks several times, then tries to focus on me and his bewildered expression is utterly adorable. I cup his chin, kiss him softly and run my hand up and down his spine.  
  
“This is going to hurt,” I whisper the words against his lips and he lets out a tiny whimper. 

_Does my little promise excite you, pet?_

“Please.”

“Anything for you, my little vampire.”

I kiss him again and while I do, I summon my favourite black snake whip and grabbing the handle firmly, I let it repeatedly snap through the air.

_Crack! Crack! Crack!_

He flinches at the sound and I sneak my arm around his waist and pull him flush against me. We’ve used that whip for quite some time already and it’s become extremely pliable. It’s become so easy to use that I could control it in my sleep.

“Ready, love?”

He gives me a small nod and I give him another kiss, then look him in the eyes and hold his gaze.  
  
“You’re my good little pet, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“And you’ll be a good little vampire and take every lash I give you, won’t you?”  
  
“Yes, Harry.” 

“Will you curse?”

“No, Harry.”

“Good boy.”

I linger for another moment, then step away, position myself and get a feel for the handle. It sits perfectly in my hand and I have a good grasp on it. I watch him for a while, wait for him to close his eyes and lower his head a little, then flick the handle and let the whip’s tail sail through the air.

It lands on his back with a delightful loud crack and he tenses, flinches and yelps. He struggles to remain upright but the chain that’s securing his arms above his head, won’t let him lose his footing entirely.

An angry red welt blossoms across his back and I lick my lips at the sight of it. I count to three, then land another blow and then another and one more.

_Crack! Crack! Crack!_

He groans, yelps, then screams and struggles against the bonds. He seemingly struggles to decide which leg to stand on as wave after wave of a sharp intense stinging sensations flow through him.

The marks across his back look just as beautiful as the bloodred wax that’s still stuck to his front.

I land another blow. He cries out and arches this way and that way, shuffling from one heeled foot onto the other as he tries to cope with the all-consuming pain that he loves so much.

I let the whip snap through the air again and it lands on right across his arse. He screams and finally the tears begin to fall. He sobs and yelps and I land a few more blows to the back of his thighs, his arse, and his back. The whip obeys me completely and each lash is precise and lands exactly where I intend it to land.

Before long, he’s covered in a beautiful assortment of thick, thin, long, and short angry red welts.

Tonight, I’ve been careful not to break the skin but regardless of that, he’ll feel those lashes for a few days and by the time I’m finished with him, he’s a crying, sobbing mess but the blissful, spaced out expression on his face tells me I’ve done the right thing and given him just the right amount of lashes with the right amount of intensity.

He looks utterly content and I banish the whip back to the playroom, stride over to him and simultaneously release his bonds and pull him into my arms. He melts into me, buries his tear-streaked face in my neck and cries softly. I trail my fingers up and down his back, careful to avoid the painful marks and he whimpers and clings to me as though letting go of me might cause him physical anguish.

I gently guide him over to a nearby garden bench and sink into the cushions. He awkwardly straddles my thighs, wraps his arms around me and snuggles close while I wrap mine around his waist and caress the places I haven’t marked. I accidentally brush a welt and shuddering in my arms, he buries his face in my neck and whimpers. I do it again and a tiny moan escapes his throat and vibrates against my skin.

_You like this, don’t you, pet? Sweet, sweet, pain._

I continue to tease the raw, red skin and his breathing grows laboured as he rocks against me. I let my fingertips run over the crack between his buttocks, let them slip in and caress his fluttering hole.

“Please,” he whispers into my neck.

“Please what, my little vampire?”

“Please touch me.”  
  
“I _am_ touching you.”  
  
“I need more, please.” 

“You insatiable little bloodsucker, haven’t you had enough?”

He moans and moulds himself against me.

“Please, Harry, please.”

He’s euphoric with desire and wild excitement.

I press my finger against a thick, angry welt and he groans and rocks back against my fingers. I let them ghost over his hole, teasing the sensitive skin around the tight muscle. He slowly grates his hips and my cock responds to his teasing.

“What do you want, pet?”

“I want you. Please, Harry, please.”

He moans and whimpers and rocks against my fingers and I press against yet another welt. The delicious mixture of searing pain and sweet pleasure makes him grind his hips down onto my cock and I let out a low groan.

“Not so fast, my little vampire. I make the rules so if you want anything you better be good.”

He stills immediately and I tease his welts and his hole at the same time. He struggles to keep himself from moving and I let him hover on the edge, while I alternate between pleasuring him and reminding him of the fierce whipping, I gave him less than half an hour ago.

I’m painfully hard and I can feel his cock press against my stomach. I’m a little too desperate to deny him the pleasure of having my cock inside him but I’m going to make him work for it. If he wants me to fuck him, he’s going to have to do all the work.

“Lift yourself up for a second, pet.”

He follows my order and I wrestle with black slacks and wriggle out of the offending piece of clothing. Somehow, I manage to get them off without dislodging him completely. It’s an awkward little struggle and we both smirk at each other but he makes no scathing remark or sassy comment.

He knows better than to go there.

_Good boy._

I summon a bottle of lube from our playroom and make him watch as I lube up my cock. I also lube up the rim of his tight hole and he moans unashamedly. I bait him a little.

“Do you want this, pet?” I ask and lazily stroke my thick hard cock.

He looks, licks his lips, whimpers, and nods.

“Say it.”  
  
“I want your cock, Harry. _Please_.” 

“Where do you want it?”

“Inside me. Fuck me, please.”

“Are you sure you can take it?”  
  
“Yes, Harry. Please.” 

“Ask nicely.”

I’m just being shameless now and he knows it but he also knows that I am not above denying him the pleasure of a good hard fuck if he doesn’t behave. This is pure power play and I absolutely get off on it. I’m not ashamed.

“Please, Harry, please fuck me. Please, I need you to fuck me, please.”

“You’re such a little cock slut, aren’t you?”  
  
“Yes, Harry.” 

“Circe, look at you, you’re desperate for it.”

“Yes, Harry. Please.”

He’s positively leering at my cock and I place my hand on top of this thigh and squeeze.

“If you want it so bad, fuck yourself on my cock. Show me how beautiful you look when you ride me.”

He makes an indescribable sound. It’s music to my ears and keeping my hand wrapped around the base of my cock, I watch him slowly move into position. He tries to wrap his arms around my neck but I click my tongue.  
  
“Arms behind your back.” 

He whines but obeys the order, then slowly sinks down onto my cock. I feel myself breach his tight hole and he throws his head back and groans.

The burn is intense. I’ve got no doubt about that. He’s impossibly tight and I love it.

“Go on, take it, take all of it,” I urge him on and he continues to slowly impale himself on my cock. His hole is so unbelievably tight and hot and letting go of my cock, I grab both his hips and force him to sit down on my lap. He takes the rest of me with a low groan and I press my finger against one of the welts on the back of his thigh. He whimpers, arches his back, and then rolls his hips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” I whisper breathlessly and he slowly levels his head and opens his eyes. He looks at me with a strangely spaced out expression and I touch another one of his welts. He moans and his mouth falls open. He shakes and shudders and I can’t get over how beautiful he looks.

“My beautiful boy, my sweet pet, you’re gorgeous.”

“ _Ngh_ , Harry.”

He groans and looks like he’s about to lose it.

_Not yet, love._

I’ve marked him with my teeth and my mouth and wax and our favourite whip and he still wants more. I can’t fault him for being insatiable because I want more too. I want to see him fall apart, I want to tear him apart, I want to push him past what he can take.

“Go on, pet, fuck yourself on my cock,” I encourage him and he rocks his hips slowly, then, to the best of his abilities, builds a steady rhythm.

He rises and each time he lowers himself back down onto my cock, I find one of his welts and press against it, stinging the temporarily marred skin.

“Faster,” I pant.

He obeys me and I keep my hands on my hips as he exerts himself in my lap. The position is awkward, he can’t use his hands and arms and I keep distracting him with reminders of the intense stinging sensations of the whipping I gave him. I’m devious and mean and the look on his face tells me he loves it. His hard cock stands proudly and I stroke it leisurely, further diverting his attention.

I push him to the brink of what he can take and when his thigh muscles give out on him, I force him to get off me, get up, roughly bend him over the bench and force him my cock back inside his tight hole. I grab his hips and fuck him mercilessly, repeatedly ploughing into him.

He groans and moans and pleads and suddenly remembering his magically lengthened hair, I twist my hand around the braid and yank hard. He screams and shudders and I literally bugger him senseless.

It doesn’t take me long to reach the point of no return, I’ve been too aroused for too long.

For a change, I want him to come with me and wrapping my hand around his prick, I stroke him in time with my thrusts. A few minutes later, my orgasm breaks free and with one last hard stroke, I empty myself deep inside of him, filling him with my come. He’s a complete wreck and I force his second orgasm of the night from him. He comes hard, coating my hand and the bench, then slumps forward in a boneless heap.

He’s panting and sobbing and the tears are falling freely and I vanish his come from my hand and caress him tenderly. I ease out of him, gently encase him in a strong embrace. I scoop him up and carry him back inside, through our playroom and into my bedroom. Ordinarily, I would help him to wash up, cuddle him for a while and then make him sleep in his own bed but tonight I care for none of that. I just want to mould myself around him, hold him tight and fall asleep with him in my arms while he’s floating somewhere far away.

I don’t care that he’s covered in come and wax and marked with countless welts. I want him just like that and I’m not going to let him go for a very long time.

When we get to my bedroom, he’s already half asleep in my arms and spelling the covers away, I ease him onto the mattress, climb in behind him, cover us both and wrap my arms tightly around him.

“My precious.”

He whimpers softly and I kiss the back of his neck, just beneath his collar, and his shoulder.

“Harry.”

“I’ve got you, my love, you’re safe with me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sweet one.”

I press another kiss to his sweaty skin and hug him tighter. I force myself to stay awake until I’m sure that he’s drifted off to sleep, then I join him, determined to sleep in tomorrow.


End file.
